Broken
by Ace-of-spades3
Summary: Shannon comes to find Sayid to thank him again for the shoes, and Boone's jealously gets the better of him. Not full on Romance, but definate Shayid leanings. Quite sweet I thought, and my first Lost fic, so be gentle with me.


Sayid sat in the clearing, poring over one of the French woman's papers. Danielle Rousseau's scribblings were fading fast on the already brown, curled paper, but the Iraqi's quick, dark eyes were scanning over the pencil marks relentlessly, refusing to give up on them. He had his own notepad in his other hand, and the pen was hanging out of his mouth, cracking as he chewed on the end with frustration, biting down harder very now and again as he felt his patience ever so slowly fading. He flipped over the cover of the notepad and looked at the first page for the fifth time in a quarter of an hour, and with a grunt he threw the ream of paper down to the floor, kicking himself off of the log on which he was seated. He walked back and forth around the clearing, pacing around the perimeter of the irregular shape which the tall trees created, absently batting hanging vines away from his face. He let out a sigh before crouching down and shuffling through the papers until he found Rousseau's makeshift map, and he traced a line up from the beach to where he supposed he was. He glanced at the compass he had made, but it never seemed to show the right bearings, which, naturally, drove him out of his mind. He let out a disheartened noise, which seemed to be a mix between a sigh and a soft roar, before pushing slightly on his feet and allowing him to topple backwards and land on the soft, leaf covered floor of the jungle. He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling of the trees, dappled light shining green and brown through the leaves, shadows of veins casting themselves upon Sayid's already dark cheek. He ran his hands through his thick mass of curly brown-black hair, and gave a soft tug of malcontent as he closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

He was about to sit up when a noise startled him, and he lay plastered stiffly to the floor with one of his hands touching the knife tucked away in his belt. As the noise got closer, he quickly swung himself up and brandished the blade, a solemn, unfazed look on his patient face. He gritted his teeth as the noise approached quickly towards him, and his strong fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife, and when he saw a dark figure come out through the trees, he raised the knife in defence.

Suddenly, the figure tripped and landed at Sayid's feet, and he gasped and tucked the knife back into his belt, immediately stooping to offer his hand to the blonde girl who was brushing the dirt off of her shirt. A string of expletives erupted from her mouth, and Sayid gave her a little smile, which caused her cursing to stop, and a similar smile to appear on her own face.

"Hey Sayid," she said to him.

"Good morning Shannon."

She accepted his hand gratefully, and he pulled her up with ease. He briefly observed what she was wearing, the tight purple blouse with the top buttons undone, her little white ra-ra skirt, which barely reached below the curve of her bottom; she had her sunglasses perched on the top of her head, and her gold, hanging disc earrings reflected the sun into Sayid's browns eyes as they moved with the wind, which blew her hair before her eyes. He made sure that his betraying eyes did not wander south and fixate themselves with her long, tan legs. It would be slightly too noticeable and besides, he didn't like to think of Shannon in such a way. She had a lot more going for her than just looks, and if Boone knew what went through his head when he saw her, he'd have to keep one eye open when he slept. She shook her head and tucked her fringe behind her ear before she turned to face him properly and inform him:

"Jack was wondering where you were, didn't see you this morning."

"I woke up early to work on Miss Rousseau's notes," he explained, before pausing for a second and then asking, "What are you doing out here? By yourself too? It is dangerous this far out."

"In that case I could very well ask you the same question 'Indiana Jones'. You're all by yourself out here, and like you said it's very...No!"

Sayid jumped slightly at her sudden outburst, and he quickly put his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes, which were creased with upset, and he asked her hurriedly:

"What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"No Sayid, I'm not!" she cried, her hands woven into her hair as she stared down at her feet.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Shannon fell to the floor and began undoing the straps on a pair of shoes which looked awful familiar to Sayid, as she began explaining distraughtly:

"No, it's not me! It's the first time I wore these, that's why I wanted to find you!"

'Ah!' thought Sayid, 'I knew I'd seen them before'. The shoes were the strappy purple sandals he had given her only two days past, as a thank you present for helping him translate the French. She was stroking the straps delicately as she untied them, and Sayid sat cross-legged beside her and asked carefully:

"Is something wrong with them Shannon?"

"No Sayid, they're perfect! But it must have been when I tripped up, look!"

She slipped the article off her foot and brandished it in his face, and he gingerly took it out of her hand and examined it gently, turning it over and over before letting rest in his palm. He looked up at her with a sympathetic smile on his face, and he spoke the words which Shannon had dared not utter.

"The heel is broken."

"I'm sorry Sayid. It was the first time I wore them too, and they went with my outfit so well, I just really wanted to come say thank you."

"You have nothing to apologise for Shannon. I'm just glad you liked them."

"It's just, there are so many creeper things lying around on the floor, I guess I just didn't think that it was dumb wearing them out here."

"This broken heel will be easy to fix," Sayid stated with a smile, and Shannon's eyes lit up, but faded a little when he added, "If I can find the equipment."

"You think you could do that Sayid?"

"I'll try my best."

Shannon gave a little squeal of delight and launched herself at the Asian man, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing. He was taken aback for a second, but he remembered himself after the moment, and he quickly put one of his arms around her slim back before the offer of affection could be snatched from him.

"Shannon, what the hell are you...doing here."

Boone appeared through the trees behind Sayid, and Shannon quickly snatched her arms away from around his neck. She stood up, head down at the floor, eyes wandering bashfully, and she mumbled gently to him:

"I thought I'd come and see Sayid. He's been out here all morning."

Boone's eyes narrowed at Sayid, who was just returning to his feet, and he shot the innocent Iraqi a look that clearly implied that he was in trouble. Lines of either worry or anger were etched onto Boone's brow, and Sayid didn't dare look into his harsh brown eyes. Shannon's stepbrother gave a quick, impatient breath, before saying to the blonde girl:

"Shannon, it's rough terrain around here. You know it could trigger an asthma attack."

"Sucks to my ass-mar!" Shannon quoted suddenly, grinning proudly at her Lord of the Flies referral.

Sayid's eyebrows raised an inch in surprise; Shannon never made jokes about her asthma, it was one of the things that she was consistently serious about, that and their situation on the island. Now she had come and made a joke about both of the topics at hand. Sayid studied her beautiful face, and he found that he face wasn't wrought with bitterness, as it was when she and Boone normally had an argument, but a sweet, mirth-filled smile was instead on her lips.

"It isn't funny Shannon!"

"It's only a little way to the beach; besides, I've got Sayid with me. Relax Boone."

"Yeah? Well, how does _Sayid_ know what to do if you have an attack?"

The name 'Sayid' was like poison on Boone's tongue, and he used with the utmost sarcasm, something that neither Shannon nor the person in question missed.

"He was in the Republican Guard, dumbass, he knows how to handle tricky situations, right Sayid?"

"That is correct. I had a friend there who was asthmatic, so I know the basics."

"Anyway, a carry a bunch of that eucalyptus crap around with me. Sun made me some that I put in one of my old shampoo bottles."

Boone looked a little bit lost, and Sayid's patience and cold politeness was beginning to wear on his nerves, but he maintained a cool composure and said quietly:

"Come on Shannon. Come back to the beach?"

"Sure...I'll leave the shoe with you, right Sayid?"

Sayid nodded, but he put up a hand for her to wait a second. He sat down on the log and unlaced his two brown boots, kicking them off after a lot of tugging on the sole. He held them up by the laces and handed them to her, and Shannon looked at him quizzically. He shrugged and explained:

"They'll be too big, but Boone is right. The terrain around here _is_ rough, it'll do you no good to have no shoes on."

"But what about you?"

Said pulled up his trouser leg to expose his already scratched and bruised foot, and Shannon gave a little smile as he said:

"I think I'll be able to handle it."

Boone rolled his eyes as he tugged on Shannon's arm, and the girl pulled away from him, sending a glare his way. She looked back at Sayid for a moment, before ducking down to pull the heavy boots onto her feet. He had been right, they were far to big for her, and they slipped down her ankles when she walked, but they were warm and strong, and made her feel safe, even wanted. No one treated her with the same amount of respect as Sayid, and it brightened her up. Boone told her to go ahead, and when she was out of earshot, he said to Sayid:

"What did I tell you about staying away from Shannon?"

"As I recall," answered Sayid calmly, writing in the notepad he had retrieved from the floor, "Shannon came to find me. Besides, I don't know what you think is going on, but I assure you it's purely innocent."

"Yeah? I don't believe you."

"Really?"

"You get this look on your face whenever she's near, and every time you talk to her, your voice gets softer, quieter. She likes you, OK? She never yells or fights around you, she always wears her favourite clothes when she knows she'll see you, and she'd do anything to make you like her! I won't let you break her heart!"

"With all due respect Boone, it seems like I'm not the one who pays too much attention to Shannon."

Boone opened his mouth to respond but, as he found no suitable comeback, his face fell and his eyes wandered to the floor. Sayid's assumptions were confirmed, and Boone turned on his heel and walked briskly away from him, fists clenched and teeth gritted.

Sayid sighed and continued writing in his little notebook but, every now and again, he would find himself looking at the shoes, touching the broken heel. He smiled before picking it up gently and examining it; he'd fix it for her, and he knew very well why.


End file.
